A Nightmare On Elm Street  2011  Nancy's Nightmare
by Azzamonkeyman
Summary: Kirsten thought she was alone, until she spoke to her classmates. Who was the man with the burnt face in their dreams? One day, the school nurse Miss Nancy Thompson opens a therapy session for these kids... but how does she know about Freddy Krueger? R&R


Kirsten sat totally upright on her bed, tapping a pencil off of her knee, a sheet of paper crushed up in her other hand. She glanced at the clock. '3:07am'… only three more hours to go until she had to get ready for school, which would hopefully keep her awake. She looked at the pill and the glass of warm water sitting on her bedside table. That was a last resort. Drugs were only necessary when she could feel her eyelids growing too heavy to keep open. However, tonight, she was oddly alert. She hadn't slept in a week, and before that hadn't slept properly for months. She felt so weak and her mind was confused, but she couldn't go to sleep, she wouldn't, she refused to… '3:08am"… it was gonna be a long night.

Her bedroom door opened slowly and her mother popped her head in, looking sleepy herself.

"Why are you still awake?" she asked, still dead to the world.

Kirsten shrugged her shoulders.

"Your bedroom light's been on for the past few weeks. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine Mum… just go to bed... I'll be fine."

Her mum walked in and wrapped her night gown tighter around her. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her daughter. Her once sun kissed face was pale and tired looking. Her shiny brunette hair, normally curled and hair sprayed into place was limp and lifeless, tied back tightly. Her glimmering blue eyes were wide open, staring out the window across the room. They were open, but so obviously wished to be shut.

"I thought we talked about this Kirsten." Her daughter was silent. "They're just dreams."

Kirsten spun her head around firmly and glared at her mother, almost angrily. "Just a dream?" she repeated harshly. "How can a dream do this?" she pulled up her jumper sleeve to reveal four deep scratch marks across her forearm.

Her mother looked away, not wanting to see the raw wounds, like fork scratches on a lump of ham. "We discussed this."

"No mum! You and the Doctor discussed it! And according to you and him I did it to myself! I didn't even get a chance to speak!"

"We did listen to you, and we had heard enough!" her mother was angry now. "You were talking utter nonsense!"

"Nonsense? How dare you? Why would I make up such a thing? And why would I scratch myself like this? Answer me that!" Kirsten was furious.

"You've not been yourself!" her mother stood up. "The divorce has taken its toll on you."

"I don't give a fucking shit about any divorce! What you and Dad do is up to you, I couldn't care less!"

Her mother was speechless. "Watch your language with me young lady! You're seeking attention or something… Maybe you feel unnoticed because I've been so busy? And I've read about these things. Teenagers can get stressed out by divorce."

"Oh, and because you read about it you think you're a therapist all of a sudden? I can see why Dad left you. You're a shit mother and a shit wife! You don't know anything about me! And when I'm scared or alone you're never there! And now, when I need you most, you call me a psycho!"

Kirsten began to cry, but as sad as she was, her eyes still stared at her mother angrily. She turned around and headed for the door. Before she left, she turned around.

"So if you're not a psycho, who is ...me? Because I can clearly remember that you were in your room all night when those scars appeared on your arm. You were in here, alone, and no one else could have hurt you, except yourself!"

Kirsten hid the scars under her sleeve, feeling her mother's gaze scorching them relentlessly.

"And if you didn't cut yourself, then who did, Kirsten?"

There was a silence.

"Who did it?" Her mother screamed.

Kirsten shivered and her bottom lip trembled as the words came out of her pale lips, "Kruger."

Her mother shook her head and slammed the door shut on the fragile, empty shell that was once her beautiful, energetic, cheerleader daughter.

Kirsten grabbed the glass of water and hurled it at the wall at the other end of the room, smashing it into a hundred pieces, which all scattered onto the floor. The water spilled out onto the floor, leaving a puddle amongst the field of glass shards. She got out of bed and walked over to her window to shut it as a cool breeze was making its way in and turning the warm bedroom rather chilly. The soft wind ran through her hair like invisible icy fingertips, caressing her face gently. She took one last glance at the house across the street. His bedroom light was still on. He must still be awake. She shut the curtains, feeling reassured.

Tommy's mobile phone vibrated once, a message showing up on the screen.

"From Kirsten - You better still be awake Tommy! Text back as soon as you get this. Whatever you do, don't fall asleep! X"

On the bed lay Tommy, a sports magazine lay across his chest and his headphones continued to play deafening music into his ears, obviously not loud enough for him to stay awake. He snored like a child in the comfort of his warm, cosy bed, still dressed, not expecting to be asleep that night.

Greenday went on playing in his ears. And it was his favourite song...

"Do you have the time, to listen to me whine, about nothing and everything all at once?

I am one of those, melodramatic fools, neurotic to the bone no doubt about it!

Sometimes I give myself the creeps, sometimes my mind plays tricks on me!

It all keeps adding up, I think I'm cracking up!

Am I just paranoid, or am I stoned?"

Suddenly, the music began to change and warp, the sound screeching harshly.

"One, two Freddy's coming for you…"

His headphones cables began to move, slithering across his torso like snakes.

"Three, four better lock your door…"

The earphones themselves pulled out of his ears, hissing menacingly, and small tongues as sharp as blades appeared.

"Five, six grab your crucifix…"

These dagger-like tongues suddenly grew in length, becoming just like small knives. The small earphone snake heads pulled back and rammed into his ear holes, the sound of flesh tearing came from inside his ears.

"Seven, Eight gonna stay up late…"

Tommy's eyes flew open. He let out an ear piercing scream (pardon the pun) and felt the blood dripping from his ears. The cables were thicker now, and felt scaly. The earphones had now become two snake heads. His ear phones were gone, and now, two large black serpents were wrapping around his neck and hissing to him. The two long black bodies intertwined and hugged one another. Tommy went blue, air unable to get to his lungs. The snakes tightened their grip more and more, blood dripped from his nose, he tried to shout out, but nothing could get past the death hold that these monsters had on his neck. They squeezed in tighter and tighter until eventually his eyes bulged out like golf balls and the veins in his neck burst… He wasn't moving, he wasn't breathing, not anymore. There was blood dripping from his eyes now. The snakes were gone, just a pair of earphones wrapped around his neck dangerously as he lay in bed, his pillow drenched in blood.

"Nine, ten never sleep again…"


End file.
